Closet British
by lorpor9
Summary: a one shot in which Isaac tells the pack he's secretly british.


Everyone had met up at Scot's house for their weekly 'we survived' party, which was becoming a scarily necessary celebration. Lydia was sitting at the kitchen table, reading one of her ridiculously complicated physics books, absentmindedly toying with a perfectly curled strand of strawberry blonde hair that had decided to be rambunctious and fall out of place. To her left, Scott an Allison were trying desperately to occupy the same chair, presumably in hopes of actually becoming the same person, so they would never again have to spend another precious moment without each others company. Isaac sat on top of the table, making love to a burrito he had picked up on the way over, while Stiles aggressively made a cake, because what's a party without cake. And Boyd was lurking in the corner with Derek. Boyd never really did much besides lurk these days, not since Erica's death. It had hit him harder than anyone else in the pack, so nobody said anything about it. So all in all, if you ignore the fact that half the people in the room were werewolves and the other half were slowly going insane, it was a normal friday night get-together.

Isaac looked up from his burrito. "When's the cake going to be done? I'm starving"

"Seriously, Dude?" Stiles yelled over the beaters, "you're eating a fucking burrito! How can you say you're starving?"

"This is just a snack" Isaac said through a grin, before returning to his meal...er, I mean snack.

"Cake isn't dinner, Isaac" Allison remarked into Scott's chest. Isaac stopped for a moment, pondering this concept, then hopped up off the table, "You're right! I'm ordering pizza" Just then, Lydia popped up from behind her book.

"Where are you from, Isaac?" Isaac froze and his heartbeat increased slightly, which caught the attention of the non-humans in the room. "What? um...here" Lydia crinkled her eyebrows and cocked her head to one side.

"Huh, really? I was just wondering because your accent is really hard to place, it just didn't sound like you were from California. I thought maybe you had moved here from somewhere..." Isaac looked around the room at each face, the faces of his friends, his family. He let out a deep breath, then spoke.

"Well, I guess now's as good a time as any..." The voice was Isaac's. It came from his direction, and his mouth was moving, but this time, he spoke in a british accent. "I, uh... grew up in England"

Everyone froze in disbelief, eyes fixed on the tall boy standing in the middle of the room. It was apparent, not just from his heartbeat, but from the way he said it, that he was telling the truth. Finally, after a long moment, Scott opened his mouth.

"What?"

"I lived in England with my mum until I was thirteen, I would just visit my dad on holidays. She passed away, so I had to come here, to America. He never liked that I wasn't raised a "true American", and when my brother died in combat, he told me that my accent was an insult to my half-brother's memory. So I had to fake an American accent around my dad. When I started school, all the teachers had heard me with the American accent, so I thought it would be weird...too much to explain, if all of a sudden I sounded...like this. Iv'e always thought my american Accent was rubbish, but no one's really said anything about it before..." He started to drift off at the end of his monologue, and retreated into a corner, embarrassed. Derek's voice filled the silence left by Isaac's.

"You shouldn't have hid that from us"

"Yeah," Scott said, "Were your friends. You don't have to hide who you are."

"Besides, your accent did suck" Stiles piped in. Lydia smiled, "yeah, I defiantly like this one better! It's _much _hotter" Relief swept over Isaac, removing a weight he hadn't even known was there. A smile spread across his face, that huge, goofy grin that took up his entire body. His father was gone, he had friends...no, a family now, and revealing this, it was like sweeping away the last bit of dirt from under his bed. This was his life now, and even though it was filled with danger and death and fear, he had people to help him through, and he was finally, truly happy for the first time since his mother died.

"Well," Boyd said, "are we going to get pizza or what"


End file.
